Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mauritius and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Minutemen to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Magazine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Normal,
U.S. Maple,
Bang On A Can,
10cc,
Little Man,
Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
Wire,
The Count Five,
Amazonics,
Technova,
Barry Ungar,
Hashim,
The Victims,
Matthew Bourne,
Eric Copeland,
Aloha Tigers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Mills,
Radiohead,
Johnny Clarke,
Fela Kuti,
Terry Callier,
The Residents,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispy Ambulance,
World's Most,
Unwound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Aswad,
The Real Kids,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül II,
Make Up,
The Tremeloes,
Sight & Sound,
The Fugs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Patti Smith,
X-Ray Spex,
Lungfish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Pus,
Unrelated Segments,
Max Romeo,
Dual Sessions,
Essential Logic,
Janne Schatter,
Jacob Miller,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bauhaus,
Robert Görl,
Sugar Minott,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Loose Ends,
Eric Dolphy,
Mantronix,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.